A scary rape
by LadyMelieka
Summary: Kyle is raped by... Mr. Garrison! Yes, Mr. Garrison is stil male in this. Slash, non con, all sorts of nasty stuff
1. Chapter 1

_Well, do I know where the hell this came from? Nope. I wish the plot bunnies would come and introduce themselves, instead of just leaving presents in my brain, cos this is kinda weird._

_So… South Park fiction… am planning to make this have possibly four chapters. I don't want it to be a long one. I'm prepared to go over, but not much over._

_So… Ummm, warnings: very graphic non con slash. _

_Oh! And also, Mr. Garrison is a Mr. Garrison, as in he has male genitals. I couldn't make any other south park character fit this, and Mr. Garrison was like the way I imagined it so I kinda had to use him._

_I don't own South Park, I don't own anything. Don't sue me._

_Also, I don't want any flamers. If you don't like slash and lots of it, don't read any further. I hate flamers!_

"I know you want him Mr. Garrison. You can't deny it."

"I… alright I do want him. So what are you going to do about it?"

"He wants you too Mr. Garrison. But of course he can't admit it. However, I can get you into a situation where you can both fulfill your ultimate fantasies. Let me tell you what he would like."

There is a long pause as the boy tells the man exactly what he wants to hear.

"Very well Eric, you set all this up. I'll make sure you're rewarded for it."

Cartman sniggered evilly. He could finally get his ultimate revenge.

Kyle groaned and tried to open his eyes, only to shut them again an instant later. He cried out at the pain in his head and let it fall back , only to yell as it thunked against the wood of whatever it was he was laying on.

"Shut up Kyle. I will have no noise unless I specifically allow it. Do you understand me? Nod now."

Kyle shuddered. He'd never heard that tone in his old teacher's voice before. It scared the shit out of him. He nodded slowly, relieved that some of the pain had faded from his head. He thought it might be possible to open his eyes now.

Mr. Garrison smirked as Kyle slowly cracked open his eyes. The terror in them was immediately apparent. Obviously the boy had thought Mr. Garrison would go easy on him. This was going to be so much fun. He was so hard, he was afraid he wouldn't last.

"So," he said in a low voice. "You are going obey me. Very well. I will release you from this desk now, and you will strip for me." The boy winced, but nodded, and Mr. Garrison felt his cock give a little twitch.

Kyle cringed back as he felt the old man lean over him to untie him. He slid slowly off the desk, it appeared to be one of the teacher's desks from the elementary school. He knelt down, and slipped off his shoes, pulling his socks off after, then stood up again. Slowly he unbuttoned his coat and slid it off before stripping off his T-Shirt. He hesitated when he got to his belt. "Why are you doing this Mr. Garrison?" He asked in a quiet voice, and winced as the man reached for him. "you don't need to fake reluctance with me boy, I know you want it too." Kyle shook his head and cried out as Mr. Garrison slapped him across the face. "Alright, we'll play it your way." The man slapped him again. "Take your trousers off. Do it!"

Kyle whimpered, but obeyed, managing to pull his trousers and underwear off before his legs gave out and he sank to his knees. He regretted it immediately afterward though, as Mr. Garrison made a pleased sound. "Yes, I knew it was all an act. Very good. Now. Let me out and suck me."

This was too much, and Kyle jerked himself back. "No! What the hell am I doing here? Why are you doing this to me? I wanna go home, now!"

Mr. Garrison sank to his knees and twisted Kyle's arm up behind his back with surprising strength, keeping it there till the boy screamed in pain. "You will do as I tell you boy! Don't you think fighting me will only make it harder for you?" He shoved Kyle's face into his crotch. "And it's already hard enough!" the man released Kyle's arm when the boy stopped struggling, tears rolling down his face. "Now. Suck me."

Kyle whimpered softly but didn't protest. He unbuckled Mr. Garrison's belt, and made quick work of his clothes. The man was hard and dripping, Kyle had to suppress a shudder of revulsion as he lowered his face to it. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but could see no way out. He licked his lips, and took a deep breath, before lowering his mouth over Mr. Garrison's hardness.

The man let out a satisfied groan, which was immediately followed by a long moan. "Yes, yes Kyle, do it just like that! Go on, take me deeper, suck me harder, I need it…" his words trailed off into blissful moans as the boy sucked on his cock. All of a sudden Mr. Garrison pulled away. "That's enough of that for the moment, Kyle, we wouldn't want to get carried away now, would we?" He let out a laugh, and stripped off the rest of his clothes, before taking a fistful of Kyle's hair and pulling him up to plant a harsh, biting sucking kiss on the boy's lips. This accomplished, he tossed the boy in the direction of the desk. "Lean over that. End to end, and grasp the edge."

Kyle wanted to scream. He wanted to hit the man who was going to cause him so much pain. He wanted to kill him. Instead he took the few steps to the side of the desk, and, taking a deep breath, lay down across it, the wood digging into his hipbones as he reached out and took hold of the opposite edge. End to end, as instructed, not across the short length.

_  
_Mr. Garrison _tch-tch_ed. "Well, then. Perhaps you do like it rough. Getting a taste for it, are we, boy?" And Mr. Garrison set the head of his prick against Kyle's totally unstretched asshole and pushed into him.  
Completely, wholly dry.  
And no--_that_, Kyle was not accustomed to.  
Mr. Garrison seemed to be scoring the thin walls of muscle as he pushed his way into Kyle's ass, as if he would pull out and bring Kyle's guts with him. "Fuck!" yelled Kyle. And then he started thrusting.

When, minutes later, Kyle's world had been reduced to a blood-black rasp of pain and an unending babble of _stop, please, I'll do anything, just stop, it hurts, please_, he was treated to the fresh discomfort of a hand tight in his hair, pulling his head up so that a voice could murmur, "I'm enjoying myself quite a lot, boy. And it's been such a long time since I've done anything like this, now, you can play along, co-operate with me like I know you want to, and I'll come very soon, or you can continue to fight me, and I can do this all night. What do you say?"

It was then that Kyle broke-- He begged, quite of his own volition.

_"Please_, M- Mr. Garrison, please, I swear I'll be good, I swear, I'll do whatever you want, just make it stop!"  
The hand released his hair. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief, until he realized that Mr. Garrison had sped up.

His low moan of "No. . ." almost, but not quite, drowned out the chuckle.

For the next five minutes, Kyle endured not only Mr. Garrison's prick thrusting in and out of his unlubricated ass, but also his taunts. The taunts were many, and varied: how much he must like this, to keep silent for so long, how sweet those moans and pleas sounded to the man's ears, how very delicious a fuck he was, particularly pinned face down like this, and he would have to make a point of doing that more often.

Eventually Mr. Garrison lost patience with prolonging his pleasure, and ended it, emptying himself inside Kyle, his noise of long-delayed satisfaction nearly a bark of laughter. His withdrawal was, as a result, marginally easier than his insertion had been. Kyle's eyes were so fogged with tears that when he lifted his head and tried to squint thorough them he wondered for a moment if he had been fucked blind.  
He let out the smallest of moans, and slumped off the table as soon as Mr. Garrison levered himself off. He curled up in a little ball, ignoring the damp cloth that was dropped on his face.

"I'm leaving now boy. You've had your fun, clean yourself off and get the hell out of here. I don't want to hear that you've been telling anyone about this, alright? But from what I've been told, you won't say anything to anyone."

Kyle stared numbly up at the man. What he had been told? Well, what did it matter. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, refusing to speak.

Mr. Garrison sighed and left, ignoring the tears rolling down the boy's cheeks. 

Read, review, don't flame, don't sue.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, so I've finally made it to chapter 2! Well, truthfully I've been working on it for a while, and just not getting anywhere, but for some reason I've had this burst of creativity! I'ts so awesome! So while I'm working on the Bleach fic which spawned all my ideas, I'm also doing bits and pieces of my other fics to try and get them done! Wouldn't that be cool? last chap, let's get started!_

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap._

Stan Marsh groaned, turned over, and tried to ignore the insistent tapping on his window. He reminded himself to tell his dad to cut that fucking tree branch off tomorrow. Then he remembered his father had done that six months ago, three days before his death. Which meant something else was now banging on his window. He shot out of bed and across his room.

"Kyle?"

Stan shoved the window upwards, and helped his sobbing friend into his room, where Kyle promptly collapsed on the floor. Looking closer, Stan could see awful bruises on the other's neck, and strange traces of blood on his trousers.

Realizing his best friend was terribly hurt, he carefully lifted Kyle into his arms and set him down lightly on his bed, on his back. "Stay here Kyle, I'm going to get some stuff. I'll be right back, everything's going to be ok." He murmured soothingly, stroking Kyle's damp hair back from his face, only now noticing the trademark green hat was missing. He ran his hand gently over Kyle's hair again, and left the room

He ran down the hall to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and a warm damp facecloth, before rummaging in the cupboards for the first aid kit. Finding it, he was disappointed to see it was nearly empty, but brought it with him anyway, hurrying back to his room.

"Kyle? I got a bunch of stuff, are you awake?" He knelt down next to the bed, reaching out for his friend.

The Jewish boy moaned softly, but opened his eyes, focusing on Stan." He hurt me, Stan. I was asking for it, I couldn't say no."

Stan was incredibly curious, as to who 'he' was, and what he had done, he suspected that whatever had been done to Kyle, the boy had not asked for it. He pushed all that aside thought, and gently shushed his friend.  
"It's gonna be alright Kyle." He whispered, and lifted the wet cloth, wiping Kyle's face with it, before turning his attention to the bruises on his neck. Kyle whimpered as Stan pushed his collar back a little, before gasping and leaning down to get a better look. "Oh, my god, Kyle, are these hickeys?"

Kyle started crying again, and nodded, turning his face away in shame.

Stan growled, and pulled off Kyle's shirt, exposing more hickeys and bites all the way down to his stomach, some still oozing blood. "Shit, Kyle."

The Jewish boy hiccupped. "It's worse this time. He didn't bite me last time. I was asking for it. He knew I wanted it because I didn't tell anyone. Because I didn't ask for money like he'd been told I would." He flinched as Stan stripped him off the rest of his clothes.

"Fuck."

Stan couldn't hold back the exclamation. Kyle's backside was a total mess. His legs were caked in dried blood and semen. He shuddered, and thought about how it would have gotten there. Any doubts he'd had that his friend had been raped left his mind in that instant. "Kyle… Kyle, you're really badly hurt. We should go to the hospital." He jumped as Kyle moaned and tried to wiggle away from him. "NO! I don't want to go to the hospital! Please! They'll tell my mother, they'll tell her I'm a slut, it's not my fault!" Stan nodded, reaching out to stroke his friend's hair again. "I know Kyle. I know. It's not your fault. You were raped, no one's going to blame you, or call you names. I won't let them. But I can't make you better here. We have to go to the hospital. Can I go get my mom?"

Kyle sniffled, but nodded. Stan stood, then made his way to the chest of drawers. Opening one, he pulled out a pair of track pants, and brought them back to Kyle. "Here dude, put these on. They're big, so they'll be loose on you, and won't hurt you… down there." He flushed slightly as he said it. "I'm going to get my mom, she'll take us to the hospital. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Stanley?" Sharon Marsh blinked sleepily at her son, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Stan, what is it?"

The boy stepped inside. "Mom, it's Kyle. He's in my room. Someone hurt him. Raped him. We need to take him to the hospital. Will you help us?"

The comment shocked Sharon awake. "Kyle was raped? Oh my God." She jumped out of bed and threw on the clothes she had been wearing that day. "Let me see him."

Stan stroked Kyle's hair gently as they rode to the hospital. It had hurt the Jewish boy to sit, so he lay down on the back seat of the car, head in Stan's lap.

Stan knew that rape victims didn't like to be touched, but he couldn't resist trying to comfort his friend. Plus Kyle didn't seem to mind at all, so Stan wasn't going to stop.

When they got to Hell's Pass, Stan helped Kyle out of the car, pleased when the Jew grabbed his hand tightly. They walked in slowly, and explained the problem, within minutes Kyle had been tested, treated and washed clean. He lay in his hospital bed with a blank face, still gripping Stan's hand. They were alone for the moment. As the doctor had left, he'd asked Stan to try and get some information out of his friend. Kyle wasn't talking to them.

"Kyle?"

the red haired boy looked over at him, questioningly. "Kyle, who did this to you?"

Without blinking, Kyle turned his face away. Surprised, Stan shifted to keep eye contact. "Kyle you need to tell me, alright? We can't help you until you tell me who did it." A tear slid slowly down Kyle's face. "I can't, Stan. I just can't. Please."

Stan brushed the tear away gently, letting his hand linger on Kyle's cheek. "Alright," he said quietly. "I'm not gonna push you."  
The doctor returned. "I'm sorry young man, but visiting hours are over. You'll have to leave now."

Kyle's eyes widened, and he tuned quickly, grabbing Stan's wrist. "No! You can't leave me!" The doctor frowned sternly, and indicated the sleeping pill to Stan, who nodded. "It's okay Kyle. You're gonna take a pill, and you're going to sleep. I'll be back when you wake up." He glanced at the doctor, who nodded and entered the room with the pill.

"Here you go Kyle. Take this now."

Kyle sighed, but swallowed the pill docilely. Stan smiled at him, and felt his friend's grip on him relax. On impulse, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Kyle's cheek, a gentle brush of lips on skin. "Get well soon Kyle," he whispered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When he walked up the hallway of the hospital the next morning, Stan was surprised to see Butters outside Kyle's room, looking nervous. "Butters? What are you doing here?" He asked worriedly. Butters looked down, embarrassed.  
"I'm sorry Stan," he said softly. "I... I just thought Kyle might like a visit from someone who's been through the same things what he has." Stan stared in shock at Butters.

"Someone did this to you too?" He asked finally, and Butters nodded.

"Yeah. I don't know why you're so surprised Stan. No one else really was. I... I guess I'm only good for one thing, and he knew it."

Something about that rang a bell for Stan, and he frowned at the blond. "Butters. I'm really sorry that happened to you. No one deserves this. But... do you think, with your, uh, knowledge of how a victim feels, you could get Kyle to tell you who raped him?" He winced when Butters shuddered at the word. "Sorry. It's still sensitive huh?"

Butters nodded. "Yeah. It'll always affect me. But don't worry. I'll ask 's go see him now. I reckon you'll need to calm him down."

Stan didn't understand that odd sentence at all, but he followed Butters silently into Kyle's room.

Kyle looked up from the book he was flipping through as Stan and Butters entered the room. Stan rushed right over and took his hand gently, but Butters hung back a little. Kyle smiled up at Stan and squeezed his hand tightly. "Hi," he whispered, and Stan grinned back. "Hey, how are you feeling today?"

Kyle blushed a little, as he remembered once again what had happened to him, but with Stan grinning at him like that, he just felt good. "I'm much better. The doctors think I can go home tomorrow. You were right Stan. No one blames me. Not even my mom."

Stan nodded. "See, I told you. The one who did this to you is to blame. Not you. He should be punished."

Sighing, Kyle nodded. "I know. I just can't."

Butters stepped forward. "Stan, may I speak to Kyle alone? If you wait outside I'll call you when I'm done."

Kyle watched in astonishment as Stan obeyed Butters without a word.

"Kyle, I have a confession to make..." the rest of Butters' sentence was lost as Stan shut the door quietly behind him.

Ten minutes later, Stan was just beginning to get worried when Butters stepped out, and closed the door behind him. "I know who it was," he said softly. His eyes were haunted, and he looked scared. "Butters?" Stan asked, and the boy glanced away.

"Go in and talk to him, Stan," He said. "He needs you. I'll go tell the doctor to call the police."

He didn't wait for Stan to answer, he just set off down the hallway, so Stan took a breath and entered Kyle's room.

"Stan?"

"Kyle!" Stan rushed to the bed when he saw the tears rolling down Kyle's cheeks. "Hey, don't cry, please, it's all going to be alright."

"Stan... it was Mr. Garrison, he did it! Both me and Butters!"

Stan didn't know when he'd taken Kyle into his arms, but they both knew it felt right.

_Well, hell. It took me long enough to get this out. I've had a lot of people ask for it, and I feel like an ass for taking so long. Sorry all, will try and get more soon._


End file.
